


Let's Bust Out All Your Graph Paper And Let the Magic Flow

by pikaflute



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Birthday, Gift Fic, M/M, i gave charles my birthday im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikaflute/pseuds/pikaflute
Summary: While in the middle of busy all-nighter, Pickles surprises Charles on his birthday with a very special present.
Relationships: Charles Foster Offdensen/Pickles the Drummer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Let's Bust Out All Your Graph Paper And Let the Magic Flow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeyMurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyMurphy/gifts).



> this is for my friend murphy :) it was their birthday recently (like yesterday lmao) so i wrote this for them :)  
> also my gimmick is back baby!!! the title is from do math with u and it's by nsp >:)

All-nighters were by all means not the healthiest for a man heading into his late forties. However, with the workload that was piling up after one the band’s latest stunts (he doesn’t even want to know why Nathan decided to go pantsless on stage, and he doesn’t even want to know _how_ he convinced the rest of the band to follow his lead), there was no time to go to bed. Better to get it done now then tomorrow when he gets the daily workload of the day. Charles groans and rubs at his temples. It was probably two am, meaning it was already Tuesday. God this week could not go by any slower if it tried.

Before he was about to reach for the alcohol to steel his nerves for god knows how much longer, there was a knocking at his door. Then, a familiar voice spoke.

“You still up in there?”

It was Pickles. Usually at this point in the night, Charles would be in his bed, along with Pickles. Pickles would usually be at his side, most likely snoring, and Charles would either be finishing some things up at his laptop or sleeping alongside the drummer (and usually ended up being the little spoon when he woke up). Thinking about sleeping made Charles close his eyes for a brief second, only to quickly snap them open a moment later. God he was tired, but he still had work to do. More importantly he had a question to answer.

“Unfortunately.”

Pickles opened the door and flashed a smile at his manager. In his hand, he had a bottle of wine.

“Can I keep my favorite man company for a little while?”

Charles smiled and gestured towards the seat across from him.

“You may.”

As Pickles sits down, Charles grabs two glasses from his cabinet. Usually, whenever Pickles wanted a drink with Charles, or more often than not a drink while Charles was busy, he would just get some from Charles stash. Rarely, did Pickles ever bring alcohol to share in his office, let alone wine, a drink Pickles rarely drinks. Strange. Nevertheless, Charles brings the glasses over and Pickles pours them some wine. After, the first sip, Pickles gestures towards Charles’ desk with his glass.

“So, what’s all this about?”

Charles gave him a look. Pickles smiles behind his wine.

“I think you know damn well what it’s about.”

“Maaaaaaaybe,” Pickles’ voice drawls as Charles looks unimpressed, “Can you refresh my memory?”

Charles sighs as he takes a sip of wine. Over Pickles’ giggling, he speaks: “You all decided to make the decision to go naked from the waist down during the middle of a show. That refresh your memory?”

Pickles giggles dissolve into a full-on laughing fit. Charles drinks his wine. As Pickles starts to settle down, Charles starts to pour himself enough glass. Might as well drink to end off this miserable night, right?

“Aw yeah, I remember now,” Pickles wipes the tears from his eyes, “You gotta admit it was pretty funny.”

“Public nudity, Pickles, is no joke. Illegal I might add.”

“Aw are you jealous everyone else got to see the goods?”

Charles turns red and doesn’t reply. He opts to sip his wine instead.

“Still. If I knew you would have this much work today, I wouldn’t have helped Nathan wit-nah I probably would’ve done it anyway, it was _really_ funny.”

As Pickles rambles on about whatever, Charles catches something that Pickles said. Today? What was so special about a random Tuesday in November?

“Sorry. Is there something going on today?”

As Pickles looks at him, confused, Charles was trying to remember what today was. Was it their anniversary? No that was in June, and coincidentally that was also their wedding day. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that. Maybe it was the anniversary when they first met? No that was in March. Charles remembers the lap dance he got that day as celebration. As he blushes remembering memories of him and Pickles, the drummer speaks up.

“Do you not know what today is?”

“Uh. Tuesday. Last time I checked,” Charles gives up and thinks _I hope today wasn’t important, I hope he’s not mad that I forgot_ , “Why? Is there something important today?”

Pickles frowned and places his wine on Charles’ desk. Then he crossed his arms. Charles takes another sip of his wine out of nervousness.

“Chuck.”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Did you really forget your own birthday?”

His. Huh?

“It’s my birthday?”

“Yes? Why the hell do you think I came in here? Wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday! It’s tradition!”

Charles reaches for his phone and checks the date. Yep. Today’s the 24th of November alright. The date so happens to be his 45th birthday. Charles coughs nervously and lets out a chuckle.

“It seems. I may have forgotten my own birthday.”

The two look at each other and then start laughing. The laughing actually soothes Charles’ headache which is nice. Somehow, Pickles knocks over a lamp in his laughing fit. Guess he’ll have to get that replaced soon. After the two calm down, Pickles takes his wine glass and drinks the rest of it.

“How do you even forget your own birthday?”

“Well. We have been busy with. Well everything and,” as Charles rambles on Pickles stands up and takes his place on Charles’ lap, wine glass in hand, “I guess the time just went by, and, well, I didn’t realize today was the day.”

Pickles leans over the desk and pours himself another glass. After taking a sip, Pickles looks at Charles and smiles.

“You’re cute when you ramble by the way.”

“I do not. Do that.”

“Yeah you do, you dork.”

Pickles pokes Charles’ cheek.

“I knew you would forget by the way. This isn’t the first time you forgot your birthday.”

“You’re lying.”

Pickles shakes his head and smiles behind his glass again. _Why is he always so adorable when he’s making fun of me?_

“Last year you slept through the surprise party we had for you. A couple years back, you went to your parent’s place and didn’t know why there was a cake. OH! And then there was that time with the hairdryer-“

As Pickles recounts the times Charles has forgotten his birthday, Charles reaches over for his glass and drinks. God, was his memory that shit that he keeps forgetting his own damn birthday? Well, he wasn’t really a birthday person anyway, seeing his band didn’t start celebrating it until Pickles went public with his relationship (Charles suspects that Pickles bullied his band into giving a shit, which was sweet) and he never really had the time for it anyway, seeing he was more for studying than partying. He can hear the voice in the back of his head that sounds like his husband calling him a nerd as soon as he thinks that.

“Well. I guess I’m not a birthday person.”

“That or you’re just getting old.”

“You,” Charles pokes Pickles in the stomach, “If you forgot are two years older than me. You are the old man around here.”

Pickles smiles and puts his arm around Charles’ neck.

“Aw we’re going to be an old folks home together in a few years. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Fuck you.”

Another smirk from the drummer. He puts his glass in front of Charles.

“How about a toast?”

Charles takes his own glass in his own hand and cocks his head, “To?”

“To being old?”

Charles sighs. Fine. To being old.

“To being old.” Charles begrudgingly says.

Pickles lets out a ‘woo!’ as he replies back with a more enthusiastic “To being old!”

They clink their glasses and take a drink. Charles settles back in his chair as puts his glass down. Pickles uses the opportunity to secure himself into Charles’ chair, so he won’t fall off.

“So why did you come here again? Besides the whole birthday thing?”

“Well for one to get you to take a break. Obviously. Is it working?”

“Yes. More because you have secured yourself in my lap and I can’t move.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Charles rolls his eyes. He supposes that taking a break for his birthday couldn’t hurt. He feels the arm around his neck become a little tighter as a hand grabs his shoulder. The touch is comforting, and it makes him smile involuntary.

“And? What else?”

“And. I got you a gift,” Pickles shuffles in Charles’ lap and takes out a small black box from his back pocket and hands it to Charles, “So did the other guys, but I get husband privileges.”

“Pickles. You didn’t-“

“Have to get you a gift because you’re the only gift I could ever ask for,” Pickles finishes with a smirk, Charles frowns, “Just open the gift Chuck.”

Charles looks at the box. There’s nothing special about it. No label from a company, no Dethklok brand, just a plain black box. Charles opens the box and gasps. Inside the box is a green guitar pick, with a chain around it.

“This. This is…the.”

Pickles smiles.

“Yeah. That. Is the guitar pick you got me. I’m surprised you remembered.”

Charles may not remember his own birthday, but he remembers this pick. It’s like Pickles said, the guitar pick that Charles got him. It was supposed to be a parting gift when Pickles was leaving to go back on tour around the States and Charles was finishing up getting his degree. The two had become close over the brief couple weeks Pickles was in Boston but Charles considers it the best weeks of his life. The dates they went on, the memories they shared, the very, ahem, intimate experiences they had in bed together. All of it was too perfect and over so soon. While Pickles was packing up his tour bus to go back out on the road, Charles had handed him the pick.

_“I got plenty of these fucking things dude._ ” Pickles had said.

Charles replied, _“True. But do you have one from me?”_

Pickles looked at the pick closely and then his eyes widened. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he smiled.

_“Guess I don’t huh?”_

The two had hugged for a long time. They had to be physically pulled apart by Pickles’ tour manager. Charles stayed and watched as the tour bus left and his first and only love in his life, started to leave him. That night, he cried into his pillow at his dorm.

Snakes n’ Barrels broke up eventually. Charles got his degree. Time moved on. Time moved the two back together. Dethklok became the best and most successful band in the world under the watchful eye of their manager. Charles had even _died_ and came back and was greeted with a hug and a kiss from the man he loved all those years ago. It felt like he was being alive all over again when Pickles told him that he wanted to start dating again. Then, they got married. Charles had assumed after all these years that maybe Pickles might have lost the pick, due to all that time.

But he didn’t. Here was that same pick. Right in front him. The engraving that made Pickles cry all those years ago was making him cry now too.

_P + C, 1988. Together Forever._

“You kept it after all these years?”

“Of course I fucking did! Didn’t I tell you that you meant the world to me?”

“Y-yes.”

“And didn’t I say I loved you even when we were on opposite sides of the country?”

“Yes. You did say that.”

“And didn’t I say-hey are you crying?”

Charles hears himself hiccup. Yep, he sure is crying. All the memories of the two together, and how happy Pickles has made Charles for most of his life, let the waterworks flow. He hated crying. It made him feel vulnerable, but he supposes it’s okay to feel vulnerable in front of you own husband.

“I’m just very emotional right now.”

Pickles lets out an ‘aww’ and stretches out his arm not behind Charles’ neck.

“Come here baby.”

Charles pulls Pickles up and in a second Pickles’ arms are both around Charles’ back rubbing him, trying to calm him down. Charles lets out a sob as he repeats the soothing motion. Minutes pass as the two sit in silence, the room being filled with Charles crying. When someone finally speaks, it’s Pickles. His voiced is a whisper.

“So. You like the gift?”

Charles nods and he lets out another couple of sobs. He hears Pickles laugh.

“Glad to hear it. Knew you’d like the sentimental shit.”

Charles smiles at that. Despite being rich and managing the richest band on the planet, he wasn’t materialistic. Pickles has always done personal stuff for things like this. And like clockwork, he would always cry. Charles feels Pickles hands on his head, and then he’s pulled in for a kiss.

So far, this is already a very good birthday in Charles’ book. They pull apart after a few seconds, Pickles is soft and gentle as he speaks.

“Happy birthday sweetie,” Pickles plants another kiss on Charles lips, this one quick and chaste, “Do you want anything else from me?”

Charles smiles. Could he ask for a better husband?

“Can. Can we go to bed?”

“Of course.”

Pickles gets off Charles’ lap and puts his hand out. Charles takes it and Pickles pulls Charles off of his chair. The two start to make their way out of Charles’ office and to their shared room, hand in hand

“Oh yeah, I need the gift back.”

“Why’s that?”

“Promised the guys I would wait to give my gift. Try to act surprised later today when you get it okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll cry extra hard for you.”

“You big sap.”

Pickles gives Charles another kiss this time on the cheek. They open the door to the bedroom, Charles sets his gift on the bedside table, and starts to undress. He hears a part of his brain object to sleeping when there’s still so much work to be done. How taking a day off would just push things off only for a short while and there’s only so much the Klokateers could do.

As he thinks this, he looks down at Pickles already settled into bed. His green eyes staring into his brown one inviting him into bed. The voice chastising him for not working gets quiet as he settles down beside Pickles, cuddling him. _For once, I’m the big spoon_ , he thinks triumphantly.

Pickles yawns as he speaks, he was probably as tired as Charles was, “Good night Chuck.”

With his husband starting to drift off beside him, Charles decided: fuck work. There’s nowhere else he would rather be rather be right now.

“Good night Pickles.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @pikaflute on tumblr and twitter and follow my descent into hell


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